Boys and Their Cars
by InkyTrue
Summary: A history of Hardcastle and McCormick's cars...told in miniature.


Mark hustled through the front door. "Sorry I'm late! Gotta message from Mom, Kath's gonna be late and I cooked last time…" Mark spotted the two of them in the family room, Matt cross-legged on the floor and Milt leaning down over his knees on a chair to get at near eye level with him.

"Is that all of them?" Hardcastle asked Matt. "Is that all of them, what?" Mark asked as he loosened his tie and ruffled his son's hair. "Daddy!" Matt threw himself into Mark's arms with such force he almost knocked him back. Mark kissed the top of his son's curly head. Milt smiled down at them both as Matt excitedly dragged Mark around the floor to show him 'McCormick's Garage'.

"Impressive," Mark said as he took in the multitude of matchbox cars that were neatly lined up in a row across the carpet. "Yeah, Grandpa and me have been naming them all." "Grandpa and I," Mark corrected gently. "Naming the cars, have you?"Mark sang out as he shot Milt a grin. Hardcastle shot it right back at him. "That's right, hotshot." The young lawyer rubbed his hands together, "Ok, so show me the heavy hitters in the rotation." Mark picked up a distinctive black car, "This looks familiar." "Daaaaad", Matt rolled his eyes, "that's the Batmobile. Everybody knows that's the Batmobile." "Oh right," Mark said putting it down, chastened. Matt carefully lined it back up with the others. Milt noticed that Matt had acquired some of Kathy's nicer traits.

"So what's this one?" Mark asked picking up a near replica of his DenCo car. "That's Stinky," Matt said emphatically. "Stinky? Why Stinky?" "Cause Grandpa says it goes like stink." Mark repressed a laugh. "And this one?" he asked picking up a Studebaker. "That's Zora May, after the Aunts." "Ah, I approve." he said winking at the Judge. "And this one," Mark smiled widely as he grabbed a low slung red car. "Is the Coyote!" "Noooo, Dad. And we're doing 'em in or-der!" Matt said with exaggerated exasperation. At least the kid had Mark's drama down.

"Hmmm, well then, what about this one?" Mark looked skeptically at a miniature sized GMC black and silver truck. "Lemme guess. The Donkey! Mark laughed as he rocked back and forth on the floor."I hope you're very pleased with yourself," the Judge replied sarcastically. "Oh, I am," Mark assured him. "For your information, wise guy, that is…" Milt looked expectantly at his grandson. "Silver!" Matt shouted proudly. "And what do we say?" "Hi-Ho Silver, awaaaaay!"Matt took the truck and 'flew' it around the family room, gently resting it back in place next to the red car."ANNNNNND," Matt announced, picking up the red race car, "This… is Scout!" The grin on his son's face melted Mark's heart as the Judge's voice broke in. "And what do we say?""Get 'em up, Scout!" Both curly headed boys on the floor in-toned in unison. Now it was time for the Judge to feel a bit misty.

And that's when it happened. Matt picked up a vintage 'vette, a dead ringer for Tommy's car. Mark's mouth went dry as he looked up in panic at the Judge. "Kathy got him that one," he said quickly. "She didn't know. Matt had just said he wanted one like Grandpa's and…" Mark spread his hands as his eyes pleaded for mercy. "S'okay," the Judge said quietly. "What do we call that one, Matt?" the Judge gently asked his grandson. "This is Kiddo," Matt said simply. Mark looked at the miniature 'vette in his small child's hand, his eyes blurring.

The Judge slowly got out of his chair. He ruffled Matt's hair and leaning down, planted a kiss onto the top of his brown curls. "That's right, Kiddo," he murmured. He then did the exact same to his father. "I love all my kiddos," he said softly before straightening to go, leaving Mark to stare at him in wonder. It was the first time Mark McCormick ever felt completely speechless in his whole life. "So what's it gonna be for dinner?" Milton called back in a booming voice over his shoulder. "Steak or steak?" "Steak it is," Mark replied quietly, pulling his son into a bear hug and following in the older man's wake.


End file.
